e prodigious quantity of
agreeably frivolous books which this nation has produced is a further
reason for the favour which its language has obtained among all nations.

Profound books will not give vogue to a language: they will be
translated; people will learn Newton's philosophy; but they will not
learn English in order to understand it.

What makes French still more common is the perfection to which the drama
has been carried in this tongue. It is to "Cinna," "Phedre," the
"Misanthrope" that it owes its vogue, and not to the conquests of Louis
XIV.

It is not so copious and so flexible as Italian, or so majestic as
Spanish, or so energetic as English; and yet it has had more success
than these three languages from the sole fact that it is more suited to
intercourse, and that there are more agreeable books in it than
elsewhere. It has succeeded like the cooks of France, because it has
more flattered general taste.

The same spirit which has led the nations to imitate the French in their
furniture, in the arrangement of rooms, in gardens, in dancing, in all
that gives charm, has led them also to speak their language. The great
art of good French writers is precisely that of the women of this
nation, who dress better than the other women of Europe, and who,
without being more beautiful, appear to be so by the art with which they
adorn themselves, by the noble and simple charm they give themselves so
naturally.

It is by dint of good breeding that this language has managed to make
the traces of its former barbarism disappear. Everything would bear
witness to this barbarism to whosoever should look closely. One would
see that the number _vingt_ comes from _viginti_, and that formerly this
_g_ and this _t_ were pronounced with a roughness characteristic of all
the northern nations; of the month of _Augustus_ has been made the month
of _aout_. Not so long ago a German prince thinking that in France one
never pronounced the term _Auguste_ otherwise, called King Auguste of
Poland King Aout. All the letters which have been suppressed in
pronunciation, but retained in writing, are our former barbarous
clothes.

It was when manners were softened that the language also was softened:
before Francois Ier summoned women to his court, it was as clownish as
we were. It would have been as good to speak old Celtic as the French of
the time of Charles VIII. and Louis XII.: German was not more harsh.

It has taken centuries to re